Criminal
by xGeekSquad
Summary: When Quinn Fabray's body is found after she'd been missing for a year, The Glee Club pins the murder on Santana. When she figures out they have evidence to back it up, she has no choice but to run. But as she runs, someone begins to taunt her with the secrets that only Quinn knew, which leads her to question- Is Quinn still alive? The pairing is either quinntana or pezberry. M.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you know why you're here?" She didn't answer. She knew all too well about police interrogations- all she had to figure out was why she was here. Had they finally caught her for shoplifting? _Impossible. I hack into the security cameras and replace my footage with old tapes. _She thought, a smile threatening to surface. She knew not to smile. It made you look like a psycopath. Especially if it was a crime like rape, or murder. _Holy crap. _She thought calmly to herself. _Could this be about Quinn?_ Quinn had gone missing over a year ago, and her body was finally found last week. _Oh my god, they think I killed her. _"Santana?" Her head shot up. Deciding against a verbal answer, she shook her head. "We're here to talk to you about Quinn Fabray. You do know her body was found last week, right?" Santana nodded. The police officer smiled.

"Why are you smiling?" Santana whispered grimly. "A human being is dead. A TEENAGER, she's dead. Why are you smiling?" Her voice raised to a shout, and she slammed her hands on the table. The police officer looked alarmed, and jumped backwards a bit.

"I'm not smiling because she's dead, if that's what you're thinking." Santana raised an eyebrow. The policeman ignored it. "It's been discovered that Quinn Fabray did not die voluntarily. She did not stab herself and throw herself into that river." He slapped down a file on the table. Santana looked at him, and he gave her a nod to look into it. She was reluctant to look, but she flipped open to the first page because the interrogation wouldn't be going anywhere until she looked. There was a picture of Quinn's lungs filled with some sort of substance. Santana traced her finger along it. "It's gas."

"How did she-"

"We don't know."

There was silence. Santana flipped the page only to flip the entire folder out of her hands. Tears filled her eyes. _Don't show weakness. It looks fake. _Santana thought as she avoided eye contact with the officer. "Was that...was that her?"

"Yes."

"What...happened?"

"She was stabbed over ten times, the official amount is unknown. She was put in a trunk, judging by the trauma on the sides of her head. She was doused in gasoline and torched, and she was then thrown in the lake. There were traces of...of semen, in her mouth, so it's presumed that she was either dead or nearly dead when she was...raped." Santana's brows furrowed.

"She survived getting stabbed ten times and being put in a trunk."

"How do you know that?"

"The gas in her lungs. She breathed in gas. She was still alive." The policeman didn't respond. Instead he wrote something down.

"You can leave." He said, grabbing her arm and leading her to the door. The entire Glee club, at least all of whom that had went before her, looked at her accusingly.

"What?" Santana asked quietly, the rude gazes of the Glee Club burning into her.

"You were with Quinn the night she died." Finn finally spoke. Santana gave them a look.

"You don't honestly think that I killed her." They looked away. "My god." Santana whispered. "You're all insensitive pricks." Her voice raised, everyone looking at her. "Quinn Fabray was my BEST FRIEND. There are things I knew about her that NONE of you did. And everything you THINK you know, you DON'T. You're CLUELESS. I AM THE ONLY ONE SHE TOLD WHEN SHE WAS RAPED. I AM THE ONLY ONE SHE TOLD ABOUT EVERYTHING THAT WENT ON IN HER LIFE. NONE OF YOU KNEW HER LIKE I KNEW HER." She paused. The Glee club looked partly sympathetic. "WHEN SHE WENT MISSING, I LOOKED FOR HER. I NEVER HAD MONO. I WENT OUT AND SEARCHED. NONE OF YOU DID ANYTHING TO HELP FIND HER." Santana screamed. Before she could continue her lecture, two police officers grabbed her. Santana just lost it. She kicked one of them off of her left arm and punched the other so hard he was knocked out. When the Glee boys came to grab her, she ran. She ran, and she kept running, until she got into the parking lot of a large tan building. "Fuck." She whispered to herself, knowing that in order to get away, she'd have to steal a car. She grabbed the screwdriver that she shoplifted out of her purse- She kinda just shoplifted for fun- and unscrewed the liscense plates of a Red Ford F-150 and a Red Toyota Tundra, switching them around before climbing underneath the Ford and hotwiring it.

"Thank god for dad." She said to herself before climbing into the car and peeling out of the parking lot. As she was on the outskirts of town, the realization set in. If she was really gonna do this, she had to grab some things from home. Her fake I.D being the most important thing. She drove to about 3 blocks from her house and she ran, jumping in the back window and grabbing her fake I.D. When she walked down and grabbed her wallet, she saw her face on the TV. "What the fu-"

_"Santana Lopez. Wanted for assault and battery against two police officers and the possible murder of Quinn Fabray." _

Santana flipped off the TV and ran to her parents' room. It had to be there. She rummaged through her father's clothes and drawers, discarding the usual secretive things he hid. "Where IS it?" She yelled in frustration, knocking the dresser over. "Fuck it." She said, running out of the room and back into her stolen car. She was barely out of Lima when her phone rang. "Hello?" She picked up. She'd plant the phone somewhere later.

_"Santana? You do realize you are a wanted person, right?"_

"Rachel, what the fuck do you want?"

"Did you kill her?" There was silence. There'd been a lot of that. "Santana, I don't think you did, and I don't want to turn you in. But I want to talk to you. And I'm not gonna turn you in unless I have SERIOUS reason to believe it. So please, Santana, did you kill her?" Tears filled Santana's eyes.

"No." She said bitterly before hanging up. Where was she gonna go? She had to dye her hair, change her sense of style, burn the clothes she's wearing, throw away her phone and start an entirely new life. Running away made her look guilty. And maybe she was. She was with Quinn the night she went missing, yes. But did that make her guilty? She couldn't remember. She DID remember getting drunk with Quinn and getting into a fight with her. Quinn seemed to WANT to start a fight. "Oh my god."

Santana stopped the car and got out. Her phone battery was at 7 percent. She made an appointment-using her fake ID- to get her hair highlighted, she walked to the wallgreens about a block away to get a trac-phone, and she walked back to her car- only to find a note.

_Poor, poor Santana. You just can't catch a break, can you? Abused and molested by your stepdad, neglected by your alcoholic mother, and now being accused of murder? You always WERE an angry drunk..._

Santana stopped in her tracks. She frantically looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of someone. Her heart stopped when she turned on the car to find another note on the steering wheel.

_I may be dead, but you can't get away from me._

Only one person knew that stuff about Santana.

Santana slammed the car door as she got out, for once not caring about her makeup running from the rain, and she looked around. She collapsed to the ground, tears freely falling, and as she looked up, she caught glimpse of a girl with blonde hair in a blue raincoat. Santana kept her eyes on the person, until it suddenly started running away. Santana tried to get up, tried to chase after this person that knew her secret- but she couldn't. Everything was blurry, and as she stood up, she only fell right back down. She muttered one last word before she went under, as everything was turning black.

"Quinn?"


	2. Chapter 2

She woke up in the still pouring rain, the car still on next to her, with all of her money and I.D still in the dashboard. By that point, the person who really owned the car had probably already reported it missing, and it's not like she could keep the car forever. She glanced at the gas tank- nearly empty. She could just run it out, maybe crash it into a tree, then run. The woods could be her home. She could use the gas she had left to buy a shed, or food, anything she needed to survive. _No. _Santana thought incredulously. She;d just buy an apartment. She could get a job, go by the name of her fake I.D. She'd always thought she looked like an Alexandria Garcia, or at least, she could act like one. She grinned to herself- She was smart enough to do this.

Suddenly, her phone began to ring again. But not her real phone, her Trac-phone. Nobody had her number yet. She reached to look at the text she was sent, but suddenly remembered the notes she had gotten. She reluctantly grabbed the phone, flipping it open.

_Oh, Santana. Or should I say- Alexandria? It sure would be a shame if I were to report an Alexandria Garcia missing, wouldn't it? Whoever you'd give that fake I.D to would have to report you to the Police._

Santana stopped the car, her head in her hands, and she looked at the now buzzing phone again.

_Texting while driving is also a crime. You don't really need to add to your track record, do you?_

Attached was a picture of Santana in the red Ford, reading the message she had recieved just seconds earlier.

"I'm not taking this." She said quietly, searching around for a blue raincoat in the forests. She knew there was one person to talk to, one person that would believe her. Santana grabbed her new phone and dialed one of the only numbers that she knew by heart. "Rachel? I want to talk to you. Meet me at the Waffle House in Cincinatti tomorrow. You know who it is." Santana flipped the phone closed. She'd have to get to Cincinatti, and that meant buying gas. She pulled out a hundred dollar bill and hopped out of her car, ultimately deciding to buy some dinner at the convenience store in the station. As she arrived at the scene, she was horrified at what was left for her.

Three dead bodies. Two of which were police officers, with Wanted signs of Santana being clutched in their hands. She cautiously walked around. It seemed that nobody else was in the station, and nobody else seemed to be near it either. She stared at the dead bodies, unable to shake the queasy feeling in her stomach. As she rounded a corner to grab the food, She was shocked to see that another note was written for her- this time, seemingly in blood.

_Oh, Santana-silly you. You're on the security tape. Better grab your food and hack fast- the police are almost here. _

Santana's mouth stiffened as she looked at the security cameras, and she ran to the little deli counter. She grabbed gloves, knowing better than to leave fingerprints, and ran to the security room. She searched for the time that the people here died frantically, knowing the police were on their way. She finally found it. Seeing as she didn't hear sirens, she leaned forward and watched. The policemen walked in and talked to the barista, showed them pictures of Santana, seemingly explained that she was wanted, and tried to leave- until the girl in the blue raincoat walked in. The policeman closest to her seemed to recoil in surprise, and reached for his radio, when the girl pulled out a gun and shot them. She then walked over to the freezers and wrote the message with the pool of blood gushing out of the barista's head and walked out the back door, leaving her gun in the salad bar. Santana quickly erased the footage and walked to the salad bar, grabbing the gun. Her head snapped up at the faint sound of sirens in the distance. She ran over to the back door and fell down in surprise at the message written on the door.

_Better get out- they're here._

Santana growled a little and show out the back door, abandoning her stolen vehicle and dashing into the forest. Just seconds after she hit the trees, police cars- dozens of them- pulled around the back of the station. There were dogs, police dogs, barking in all sorts of different directions, most of them in Santana's. She backed away, trying to run but frozen with fear. One police officer finally spotted her, pointed in her direction, and all three in the back began to run towards her. "FREEZE!" It was followed by three gunshots. Santana curled in a ball, preparing for pain, but she never felt it. She looked up calmly to see all three officers on the ground, bleeding from shot wounds. Two were dead already. One was being strangled- by a girl, with perfectly curled blonde hair, in a blue raincoat.

"HEY!" Santana yelled, causing the girl to drop the officer and run. Santana sprinted after her, dashing through the trees and grasses until she was caught from behind, a manly hand cupping her mouth as the blue raincoat girl came back into her line of sight. She nodded at the man silencing Santana and walked away, seemingly dissapearing into the thick air.

"If you shut up, you'll live, got it?" Santana nodded in his grasp. She saw him raise a towel, and as it hit her face is seemed to be doused in something- something that was making her woozy. The guy let go of her as she was going under, bending over to make sure she wasn't faking. As Santana was seconds from passing out, she could've sworn she'd seen a mohawk.

She woke inside of an empty car. She was in the driver's seat, in the parking lot of a Waffle House. She was wearing fresh clothes instead of her dirty, bloodied ones. The cuts on her body were healed and seemed to be treated. Her makeup was done and her hair had new blonde highlights. "What?" Santana's brows furrowed and she looked to the passenger's side seat.

_There's no chase if the mouse is dead. _

Next to the note was an iPhone 5 with a sticky note attached to it. "Trac phones suck, use me instead..." Santana read aloud to herself before reluctantly pocketing it and walking in. She knew that she barely looked different, but the chances that she was already wanted here as well were virtually nonexistent. She glanced around inside until she finally spotted Rachel, who was waving frantically at her.

"What're you DOING? Put these on!" Rachel hissed, tossing Santana Coach sunglasses. "Nice hair, by the way." Santana smirked. "Now. explain this to me before I regret coming here."

"Okay." Santana took a deep breath. "I don't know. I guess I lost it when you guys accussed me of killing Quinn, and it kind of all went downhill from there." Even with her sunglasses on, Santana could tell that Rachel wasn't making eye contact with her. "Rachel, I really cared about Quinn. More than you'll ever know."

"You were in love with her, weren't you?" This caught Santana by surprise. She'd never been asked this before. Her mouth fell partly open. "You don't have to answer. I guess it was kind of out of line."

"No, it...it was just surprising." Santana smiled faintly. "We had a thing once. Well, sort of a thing. It was really just a kiss. I know that to her it meant nothing, but it meant a surprising lot to me. I guess it was from that point that I realized that the whole best friend feeling I got when I was with Quinn was actually something more. I was in love with her, I just didn't know it until it was too late. A week after the kiss, like an EXACT week, was the day she went missing." She took a deep breath and thanked the waitress for the coffee, immediately taking a sip. "Moving on from my love of Q, I ran. I got out of the car that I stole to get a new phone, because I know that the police can track my old one, and I came back to see a note. It had a secret on it, a secret that only Quinn knew about me. And I knew it had just been put there, because it wasn't there before then."

Rachel held up her hand to stop Santana from further explanation. "What was the secret?" Santana just shook her head.

"So then I look at the steering wheel so I can start the car and leave, because it could've just been someone trying to mess with me. And there's another note on the inside. Word for word, it said 'I may be dead, but you can't get away from me'." Santana stopped talking. "I looked around and I saw a girl in a blue raincoat. She had blonde hair that looked exactly like Quinn's."

"You don't honestly think she's still alive." Rachel asked incredulously.

"But that's not it, Rachel. I called you so I could talk to you and then I realized I'd have to get gas, so I got out at the nearest gas station-which was in the middle of nowhere- and I found a crime scene. Three people, dead. And another note, written on the freezer, in blood. So I go to hack the security system and I find the time that the people were killed- the girl in the blue raincoat shot them. She put her gun in the salad bar. I may or may not have taken it."

"You can hack?"

"Is that really your posing question right now?" The girls looked at each other for a second before Rachel took Santana's phone.

"I'm putting my number in this. I have to leave now, or traffic will be a bitch. Just- just text me, okay? I want to talk to you, I want to know that you're okay."

"But I'm not done explaining!"

"Santana. Just text me the rest of the details. I have to go." Rachel leaned over and kissed Santana on the forehead before blushing and hurrying out, leaving Santana both alone and spotting her for the coffee. Now she didn't know what to do with herself. The car that she had stolen was back in Lima, at the gas station that was now a crime scene. She had nowhere to go.

"Excuse me, are you mrs. Alexandria Garcia?" Santana's head snapped to the waitress, who placed a note on the table when Santana nodded. "Someone left this for you." Santana thanked her and unfolded it.

_I know you want answers. Cincinatti football stadium, midnight. I'll give you the answers that you want._


	3. Chapter 3

Was it just a setup? Maybe. But she wanted answers. What if Quinn WAS still alive? Everything would change. But if she was, how did she fake her death like that? Where did she go for a year? Why would she do that at all? Santana shook her head as she walked back to the car that she woke up in, not surprised to find a new note. When she opened it, her breath hitched. There was a picture of her, surrounded by all of the dead bodies in the gas station the night before. She took the picture and ripped it up, falling to the ground when she noticed that her entire back seat was filled with copies of the picture. There was at LEAST one hundred, if not hundreds. She knew that she couldn't do anything now, and she knew that in order to get away from them, she'd have to burn them somewhere. A sudden vibration in her pocket gave her chills, and she pulled it out to sigh with relief. "Hey, Rachel."

_"You said you weren't done explaining. Thanks for the coffee, by the way."_

"I don't think it's safe, Rachel. People DO tap into phone lines, you know." Santana said quietly, pulling out of the parking lot. "I mean, tomorrow is Friday. You could come here and stay at a hotel, and I could explain myself."

_"And how would I explain that to my parents?" _

"Say you're coming here with Finn." Santana suggested, an eye out for any and all campsites. She could burn the pictures there.

A sigh echoed through the phone. _"You know I believe you, right?" _

"Do you? Do you really? Because you seemed totally on board with everyone else when they accused me of killing Quinn." Rachel didn't say anything. "What's my motive for killing her, huh? I was so in love with her that I couldn't stand her being around? Tell me how much sense that makes. Oh wait, NONE." Santana said angrily.

_"The Glee club formulated the idea that you were jealous of her, got her drunk, killed her, and threw her in the lake. There's an unknown accomplice, because there was apparently sperm residue in her mouth." _

"I don't think she's dead." Santana squeaked, like a mouse, like her opinion was something that Rachel probably didn't care to hear.

_"I'll be at the Diamond hotel tomorrow.I'll be in room 216, on the second floor. It's a one bed suite, but you can sleep there. I know you haven't slept well." _

"How sweet." Santana said with a pinch of sarcasm, a smile on her face nonetheless.

_"Santana, I want answers."_

"And I just may be able to give them to you." Santana smiled the first genuine smile she had in a while. "By the way, yes, I CAN hack. I can also hotwire cars, steal without a trace, AND hack into phone lines."

_"How did you learn how to do that stuff?"_

"My real dad taught me." Santana smiled in remembrance.

_"Oh yeah, don't you have a stepdad?"_ Santana's smile withered.

"Yeah. I'm gonna let you go, okay?"

_"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, Santana."_ Santana placed the iPhone gingerly on the seat. Nobody knew the half of it.

*_Flashback*_

_ She was scared. She wanted to stop it. She didn't want this, she didn't want her mom to go through with this. He would only hurt her. He would hurt her as he had already hurt Santana. As much as Santana resented her mom, as much as she had been neglected in the past few months due to this new boyfriend soon-to-be husband, she didn't want her mother to get hurt. _

_ "Speak now or forever hold your piece." Her brain said no, she won't believe you, she'll go through with it and he'll only hurt you more. But her heart said yes. Her heart said that maybe, just maybe, the maternal instinct in her mother would kick in, and maybe she'd love her again. She was only 13. Her father had only died 3 months ago. Even a 13 year old can think that way. _

_ "Stop!" She squeaked, scurrying away from her mother's side and instead, in between her mother and soon-to-be stepdad. "Please, mom, you have to believe me. He...he isn't who you think he is!" Tears began running down her face, and she turned to her stepdad, who looked at her with frozen eyes. "You won't treat her right! You'll only hurt her!" She turned back to her mother, who's tears were falling as well. "Please, mom. He'll hurt you...Like he hurt me." She whispered, clutching the part of her stomach where he had stabbed her. "I didn't fall. He STABBED me." But her mom pushed her out of the way, knocked Santana straight onto the ground. Her tear filled eyes looked Santana straight into her own as she took her boyfriend's hand. _

_ "I do." _

_*End of flashback*_

Santana didn't even realize that she was crying, parked in the middle of the woods. She looked around before cautiously stepping out, taking the lighter that she had shoplifted-again, shoplifting for fun- and brought out all of the pictures that were in her car. They were placed in a pile, carefully positioned away from the trees so she didn't start a forest fire. Reluctantly, she started the lighter, holding it to the pictures. "It's gone now. It's gone now." Santana said, running to the car and peeling out. "Why did I think of that?" She asked herself. She always went back to the place where she was openly rejected by her mother, where following her heart got her nearly killed, and if it weren't for the moment that Quinn walked in on her and her stepdad, nobody would've ever known. Not to mention that she and Quinn wouldn't have been so close.

_ *Flashback*_

_ He held the knife with a firm grip, slowly stepping towards the cowering figure in the corner. She had been through this. She didn't wash the dishes fast enough. She knew the consequence of her actions. "You know what?" He grinned, his evil eyes glowing in the darkness of Santana's room. "Forget THIS punishment." He dropped the knife on her bed, the glint of the metal shining in her eyes, causing her breath to hitch in surprise when she saw what her stepfather had done. His pants lay on the ground as he forced himself into 13 year old Santana, cupping her mouth so that her screaming was muffled and no sound came out of the small room. He shoved her onto the wall, forcing himself into Santana's mouth, violently thrusting and banging her against the wall with his penis. The door suddenly burst open, revealing another small figure, whom of which had blonde hair and angry, surprised eyes. _

_ "What's going on here?" Santana's stepdad burst to his clothes, reapplied them, and stepped to Quinn. _

_ "If you tell ANYONE, you WILL be sorry." He warned, shoving her to the ground as he walked out. Santana's tears were freely falling as Quinn looked over to her, sympathy practically taking over her entire body. Quinn crawled over, her ankle broken(they'd figure that out the next day) and wrapped her arms around a sobbing, half-naked Santana, starting to cry herself._

_ "It's okay, Santana...It'll all be okay, I promise..." Santana opened her mouth to speak, but Quinn shushed her. "Shh...I'm here, it's okay..." _

_ *End of flashback*_

How had Quinn even gotten into her room, into her house? Her mother HATED Quinn, despised even, and demanded that Santana abjure contact with her. When Quinn went missing, her mother barely seemed fazed. It was almost as if she was happy about it. Either way, Santana just knew that the moment Quinn came into that room, took the shove from her father, crawled to comfort Santana- that was the moment she fell in love with her. Santana shook her head, tears falling freely. She wasn't even going to stop them, she knew she couldn't, it was too late to anyways.

The time was 11:45 at night, and she was standing right outside the Cincinatti stadium. Nobody was in there- it'd be easy to just kill Santana in there and leave. But she needed answers. And if this person was going to give them to her, so be it. She unlocked the door using a bobby pin, careful not to set off any alarms, and darted to the staircase, running to the security room. She looked at all of the security cameras, finally finding one black hoodie sitting at a table in the Carraba's on the second floor. Santana laughed humorlessly before turning off the security cameras and running down the stairs, dashing to the second floor. The black hoodie raised one black glove, signaling her over. She calmly and cautiously walked over to the table, sitting on the other end. "Who...who are you?" She whispered, reaching to pull down the hood. The figure grabbed her wrist, holding it in the air as it pulled down the hoodie by itself. "What the hell? PUCK?"

"Santana, let me explain."

"You've been TORTURING ME? TAUNTING ME? FRAMING ME FOR MURDER?" Santana let a sudden realization set in. "You KILLED QUINN?" Her voice raised to a shout.

"I did none of those things, Santana. I'm not working alone. I want to explain this to you." Santana took a deep breath.

"Fine. I have questions."

"And I have the answers."

"Who killed Quinn?" Puck was hesitant to answer. "WHO KILLED HER, PUCK?"

"I wish I knew." Puck muttered. "Personally, I think she's still alive.

"Where is she?"

"I can't give that information out, Santana. Let's leave it at this- I think she's my employer, I'm not the only one who's been writing those notes. She has, and so have other people. It's like, a team."

"Who's on the team?" She asked quietly.

"Me, probably Quinn, and...listen, I can't tell you. It puts me AND you in extreme danger. Some of them are ready to kill you." Puck got up, pulling on his hood. "Be careful who you spend time with. You never know who could be on the team." He walked about three steps before turning back around. "I know nothing about the identity of the girl in the blue coat. I just know that she's the boss. But I do know what I THINK. The guys in the gas station? I think the guy was pulling out his radio because he saw that the girl was Quinn. I think Quinn's doing this to you because she knows."

"Knows what?"

"That you love her. I hope you haven't forgotten that Quinn is-...was, manipulative." Puck ran away, almost dissapearing into the darkness of the stadium.

"Believe me, I haven't." She uttered to herself before getting out of the stadium herself. As she approached the car, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Santana immediately perked up. _Rachel! _She thought to herself before pulling it out, her mood quickly deflating when it was an anonymous text message.

_Puck always was a sucker for you, wasn't he? Don't worry. He'll be taken out of the picture soon. _

All she could do was hope that it didn't mean what she thought it did.


End file.
